Whatever happened to the apples of Britain?
No more do we see any Winter Pearmain?
One thing never changed, Britain’s brain-drain…
Antisocial behaviour rife, for years, and does remain,
Yobbo gangs, threatening, mugging, causing fear & pain.
Names... where are the Grizelda’s, Alberts, and Morgaine?
Manners and empathy are also on the wane!
And, where did this go, the cure-all tincture?
For toothache, headache, grazed knee… any discomfiture,
Forgotten names used to be replaced with doojigger,
Kids seem to be getting less pain tolerant, queasier,
And cunningly clever, with their selective amnesia!
Doctors are hard to see, getting fussier, nit-pickier,
Life is being centred around the blogosphere!
Youth tending to rely on drugs, handouts, and crapulence...
Manners dwindling nowadays, it is not worth tuppence…
There have always been the uneducated and dense,
I had little schooling, thus my ignorance and diffidence,
Never had a chance or skills to gain any effulgence,
I tend to go from self-lecturing to reticence,
My fears and self-loathing showing accrescence!
Most transmogrified, is the UK’s jurisprudence…
Parole Board murderers show not guilt, but impenitence,
Freeing killers early, to murder again, with idempotence,
Politicians so full of their natural grandiloquence,
Minister, MPs, showing very little signs of self- consilience!
No prosecutions for Grenfell… causing truculence…
Political skulduggery, they have turned into a science!
All the above and more, has caused me the loss of my mojo!
Damned Dementia Doreen, means that I must use Word-Hippo…
What bit of control I have mentally, is minimal and slow?
My physical control of my own limbs? Impossible, it’s a no-go!
Peripheral Neuropathy, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun have a beano,
Daily making life painful, and distorting the brain’s dataflow…
How I can do these odes is a mystery, a curio!
HIGHLIGHT
Buying my second-hand TriumphToledo…
It cost me £195 you know…
Even then, that was good value,
I drove it away, for mate Geoff to review,
Off to his house, he was on furlough…
Pulled up near his house’s hedgerow…
The mounting broke, and the engine fell through!
Dust, rust, sparks and petrol all over the place, flew,
Not such a bargain after all, what a fiasco!
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MUSINGS OVER AILMENTS
It used to come naturally to me, but I no longer have astucity,
A cowardly wimp nowadays, I’ve lost my audacity,
Also gone into the ether, is my physical mobility…
Thanks to Dementia Doreen... also my mental agility,
I’m clinging on desperately, to my veridicality.
I’m unsure of the level of damage, mentally,
Confusion has developed with great ferocity...
The eyesight? This could be an approaching fatality?
The short-term memory, well, that’s another divorcee…
She broken her connection with the brain, you see!
I can no longer hear, see, and I walk (wobble) rather awkwardly,
Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis, Peripheral Neuropathy Petey…
Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Cataracts Kathy,
Arthur Itis, Saccades Sandra etc., are driving me batty,
Nicodemus's Neurotransmitters, all draining my energy!
Why do I give names to my various ailments?
It’s all part of my plan, to maintain some renitence,
I think it’s vital, to offer some resistance…
I realise that there’s no chance of rejuvenescence...
Dying nerve-ends untreatable, but that’s common sense!
And I want to avoid going on antidepressants!
The end must be nigh, I expect no resurgence...
Some days, I can accept things, with a sort of sentience…
Discussing with myself in my nocturnal somniloquence,
A Carer came in and caught me once, but no consequence!
Some days I feel so alone, a bit like a Yeti...
Then, I may rise from slumber, quite jubilantly,
Every morning, requiring a pain killer and a pee!
That’s another thing, Cancer of the bladder, but it’s okay...
They found it while mending my hernia, and lasered it away!
The bladder now half the size it was in my younger day.
Half the storage capacity, so I keep wee-weeing away!
Keeping the wee-wee bucket handily close, a short distance!
I used to love having moments of reminiscence...
Many a good, and many a bad experience...
Torments me, they can sometimes be intense,
Then the memory fails, thoughts turn to nonsense...
Making no sense, hogwash, utter stultiloquence!
On a bad a day mentally, I can change moods so quickly.
From feeling rather contented… It can turn so swiftly,
To a Dracula depression, my thoughts can turn ugly,
Self-hate and loathing, fears, shame, predominantly,
Sometimes I can come out of the darkness, resplendently,
The next failing, forgetting, fall, and back, maybe unjustly…
Into the world where thoughts rumble darkly,
Minutes later, I may be making a mug of Glengettie tea…
Whistling to myself merrily…
Rather unfrequently,
Yet almost happily?
NEMO MORTALIUM OMNIBUS HORIS SAPIT
Wow that is a great ode of thoughts.
ReplyDeleteVery succinctly and cogently presented, kind Sir! Your verve is as vervey and as clear as a pealing bronze bell on a crisp Autumn day, transcendence achieved. You make silent the nattering-named ailments when taking on the guise of Inchie the Indomitable Odester Incarnate. All Ailmentsters cower, shiver, and wail as they seek hiding places that would not even yield to the proverbial long-dried and tempered pea.
ReplyDeleteMy Darling! Isolation, pain and deafness can inform outsiders applying the term dementia. I narrate my day to myself frequently. If I couldn’t see to occupy my brain with entertainment, seminar level immersion in such forensic mastery of history, sociology ((much like yourself) my mind would wither. If the sight went, then the spoken and descriptive novels, TV and cinematic world is still there to occupy my mind. If the hearing as well, God knows but I live with two people who protect me, and what comes easily to me consternates them, so we share the burden and the joy. If alone with intrusive creatures entering my space on their own schedule, looking to assign weakness and speculate with NO perception of my being that I am losing touch with reality, well kind sir, I call that hubris. What comes to all who live a life is the slow loss of our autonomy, strength, and the ability to live with others. We become the old person we couldn’t understand when we were younger and nodded yes, uh huh as they tried to speak to us. It comes to all, and the answer isn’t isolation. It is enrichment. God bless you Gerry, I know you are losing command of your acute sense of vision, hearing, but you are not losing your mind. You are stalwart in your inforced isolation, and take comfort in mental gymnastics where you entertain your mind to maintain sanity rather than exhibit your loss of it. It is the observayion from outsiders who apply these labels to you. I can’t change your situation, but I can see you, hear you, feel you with respect and sincere admiration and compassion every living person is wothy of receiving, bar the predators. Sending you love and letting you know I have used prozac since I was 29 and am alive now because it took the angry edge off of my suicidal ideation depression as a natural response to real and lengthy destructive assaults many of us have survived. You have at least as much to carry as me and I learned I would still be me without the danger of chronic gnawing depression. Don’t use anything except SSRIs. This keeps serotonin in you neural nerve gaps a bit longer to allow your brain relief from the lack that long term abuse and damage cause its disruption. Love to you my darling.
ReplyDeleteAt last, I've got Blogger to let me answers a comment, Lisa-Petal! I hope it keeps it up. I'm very befuddled at the moment with everythiong goign wrong and catracts, Doris Dementia, WP, Blogger, Facebook blocking most of my posts, got a call bacl this evening from the DVT Warfarin blood test, the INR has gone down to far tooo low and they have increased the dosages. Bless you for caring petal. ♥
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